


Just the Beginning

by leahalexis



Category: Alias
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-17
Updated: 2005-10-17
Packaged: 2017-11-06 21:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/423565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leahalexis/pseuds/leahalexis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sydney and Vaughn discuss the tape Allison made of them having sex. (Ficlet for erica_douglas.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just the Beginning

Sydney ran her fingers along the rim of the light fixture above her bed. Nothing. Wait—there. She pulled a bug off the inside, and scrutinized it, internalizing a sigh.  
  
“I’m never going to be able to have sex again,” she said.  
  
“It’s not that bad.” Vaughn glanced back at her from where he kneeled in front of her dresser, checking the underside. “This area’s clean.” He pushed up from the floor and headed for the bathroom.  
  
“How can you say it’s not that bad?” She dropped the bug into the open bag on the floor. “Vaughn, my dad saw that video. My dad saw us having sex.” Not to mention everyone else who had reviewed the surveillance records.  
  
“He knows that you have sex.”  
  
“Yes, but that’s theoretical sex. We’re talking about actual, black-and-white, straddling-my-boyfriend-on-tape sex. Anything over there?”  
  
“Not unless your toothbrush is a cleverly disguised video feed. And I don’t think your father really cares.”  
  
“It’s the principle of the thing. Did you check the showerhead?”  
  
“First thing. Nothing there.”  
  
“Thank God.” A camera there felt somehow worse than the one they’d found in the television, pointed at her bed. Being taped naked didn’t both her so much; she’d given up really thinking of her body as her own a while back, and it wasn’t as if she spent a lot of missions totally dressed. But there was something about the idea of someone seeing her in the bathroom: using the toilet, washing her hair . . .  
  
“Looks like we got everything.” Vaughn emerged from the bathroom just as she stepped back to the floor. “Syd—you okay?”  
  
She rubbed her arms with her hands and turned her head away. “I will be.”  
  
“Hey.” He stepped up to her and took her hands in his, pulling them between them. “I know it’s weird.”  
  
“It’s not just that,” she confessed. “It’s Will, and Sloane, and—things were supposed to be easier, once SD-6 was gone. And now it's like everything is twice as complicated. God.” She shook her head, laughed a little. “It’s silly, but I guess I’m feeling a little sorry for myself.”  
  
“It’s been a rough couple of days,” Vaughn said, pulling her into his arms.  
  
She let herself relax into him, lay her cheek on his shoulder. “More like weeks. Maybe years.”  
  
Vaughn’s chuckle vibrated through her, warming her body from the inside. “It has been pretty bad.”  
  
“It hasn’t been all bad.”  
  
“No?”  
  
Something was shifting in their conversation, in their tones, in the way he held her, in the way she pressed against him. She turned her head, nuzzled his neck, breathed him in. Let her exhale tease the small hairs at the nape of his neck. He shifted his hips and she could feel him hardening. She smiled.  
  
“No,” she said. “There’s been you.”  
  
He was kissing her as soon as she had lifted her head from his shoulder, tongue soft inside her mouth. She slid her hands up his back; just to be able to touch him, now . . . it was more than she’d let herself hope for. So what, if everyone knew. So what, if her father had seen her with him, seen them together. None of that mattered. _This_ was what mattered. Him, and her. His lips on hers. His body beneath her hands.  
  
She broke off, breathing heavily, wanting him so much her hands shook.  
  
“Are you sure about that never having sex again thing?” he asked her, his own breath uneven.  
  
She broke into a grin, and he grinned back.  
  
“No,” she said, and pulled him backwards towards the bed.  
  
They didn’t know that they’d found all the bugs, all the cameras. But as she stripped off her shirt, then his, she didn’t care.  
  
She hoped someone was looking. She hoped they were being watched. Naked, she arched her spine, felt her hair brush against her skin as her head fell back. Let them see her. Let them see what it was like be loved this way. Her skin was hot and bright with pleasure. The air between them hummed, the tension tuned to a fevered pitch. The bite of his hips under her thighs, the solid, present feel of him inside her—she couldn’t get enough. Not of this, not of him, not of the way he made her feel. Perfect. Desired. Glorious. Like she could do anything. Like taking down SD-6 was just the beginning.  
  
Afterwards, cheek pressed to his chest, she said, “I don’t know what happens next. I don’t know how to get through this.” Having no real purpose. Being able to live again, without having to be so careful with every conversation she had, every move she made.  
  
“We’ll figure it out,” Vaughn said. His fingers stroked through her hair, and she closed her eyes, and smiled.  
  
“We will, won’t we.”  
  
He shifted underneath her, to press a kiss to the top of her head.  
  
They lay silently, fingers intertwined, and Sydney listened to his heartbeat, steady thumps under her ear. She’d do it all again, she knew—for this, for him. She’d endure Danny’s death, Sloane’s betrayal, all the lies and the deceit and the doubt and the pain, as long as he was at the end of it.  
  
And so whatever was coming, whatever was next—it would all be alright. Because he’d be there, to keep her grounded, to keep her sane. They’d be there together.  
  
The video was a testament to that. A testament to her freedom, and to her choices.  
  
Maybe she could get a copy. Records wouldn’t have thrown it out. It was evidence, after all . . .


End file.
